


Indiana Queen And The League of Shadows

by fairytalehearts



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-13
Updated: 2015-08-13
Packaged: 2018-04-14 14:26:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4567905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairytalehearts/pseuds/fairytalehearts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Indiana Jones AU. Oliver is Indie and Felicity is a master thief</p>
            </blockquote>





	Indiana Queen And The League of Shadows

**Author's Note:**

> Someone on Facebook suggested that Stephen's next "Jones" role should be Indiana Jones. So I needed to write it, haha.

There were certain things that he knew to be true-he was bored.

He had visited every museum in the continental U.S. and some in Egypt, France, Rome. No leads no nothing. He threw himself back into teaching but most of his classes were out for the summer and he was- bored. He was going to go backpack through the rainforest and maybe climb some mountains over the break but as of yet- nothing.

“Hi, Dr. Queen!”

He had noticed the Art History department of course, they shared a floor. It wasn’t completely out of the norm for him to see the lovely art historian walk by, her red pen tucked behind her ear. Dr. Smoak was new to the department, but even Barry in Forensic Science said she’d charmed everyone in the building. She usually had two coffees perched on her arm and today she had three.

Which she dropped all over the floor, and her white blouse.

“Shit.” She swore, looking down at her blouse. Her bra was pink and he did his best to avert his gaze while he feebly handed her the Kleenex box off his desk. She blotted at her blouse and smiled up at him. “I’ve never been in here before. That Van Gogh is impressive.”

He normally lied when people asked about the Van Gogh. He had helped someone, they helped someone, and when someone helped themselves to the painting he recovered the forger’s work. The forger, wherever they were, left behind the entire collection of Van Gogh that would pass carbon dating tests on the paint and the canvas.

“I mean it’s obviously fake, the gray is too gray and the brush strokes are too short but that blue is spot on. How much lead is in the paint, I could get my scanner and once the CIA leaves I can totally-”

Even though the biggest faux pas in art was to touch it, Dr. Smoak’s hand went out and lovingly caressed the frame. She must not have realized what she was doing, but she looks sheepishly up at him- an apology written on her face, “Please tell me I can x-ray this frame and see that there are actual trees from Van Gogh’s actual house. Oh! THE CIA!”

Felicity turned to the painting, “I’ll be back to work my magic on you.”

Oliver gulped nervously, but she was clearly talking to his fake painting, “Why is the CIA here?” he says instead.

“Art Forgery is sort of my specialty. I have doctorates in Forensics, Art History, Preservation, Oh and Computers! I’m like a super sleuth. Of the _modern_ era.”

Oliver briefly wondered why and how he did not know the woman across the hall was so- educated. In similar fields as him. “No archeology?”

“I can scan an empty field with radar imaging faster than you can dig up some bones.” It comes out as an insult and she immediately regrets her words. “I’m just gonna go talk to the CIA and then bury my head in the sand and maybe you’ll forgive our horrible first encounter and then maybe let me take your fake Van Gogh to my lab.”

Oliver pulls his spare shirt out of his desk drawer, handing it to her. “I’ll get you new coffees from downstairs. You- change.”

She turns around and takes her shirt off right in front of him, and Oliver tries not to think of her pink bra while he dashes down the three flights of stairs to the coffee cart.

After her meeting (and his night class) he walks her to her car, but she heads for his Porsche instead. “I’d be remiss not to return your shirt to its proper drawer.”

It had been awhile since anyone had flirted with him but he’s sure he’ll pick it back up quickly.

“I suppose I should wash your blouse. Just to be safe. You might just steal my shirt.”

“Yes. I’m totally a thief.” She leans over to kiss him and misses, just smooching the corner of his mouth. He laughs and maybe a summer fling is just what he needed to recharge the batteries.

**

Felicity had done everything in her power to get the sexy Doctor of Archeology’s attention.

He, being the target, and she, being a somewhat professional, had done everything by the book. He preferred blondes, she dyed her hair. He was private, she gave him space. But it was taking too long to get things off the ground and she could see her ticket out of the League of Shadows slipping out of fingertips. Using her actual degrees and actual name to get a job was strange to say the least.

She even had to teach classes and grade papers- the life of a different Felicity in a different time.

Leaving to go get Sara and Nyssa some coffee was a well needed break and if she hadn’t tripped coming up the stupid stairs she would not be in his house right now, doing her best not to fall asleep in his warm embrace.

She needed his contacts to find the stupidly named, “Treasure Trove” and the damn feds weren’t even looking for it. Merlyn had gone rogue and blown the place up, but no one could find the bastard. Dr. Queen’s handler was one of the best on the good side of the law.

Sometimes she really hated the good side of the law. So slow. So much red tape.

Looking over her shoulder, Oliver really did look dreamy. She would definitely enjoy this assignment more than she originally thought. It was a long con and as long as she kept to the script she’d be free from the League, free from her life of crime and could retire early, somewhere tropical.

Ruffling his hair, he leaned into her touch even sleeping and Felicity decided to reward him with breakfast. If the takeout containers in his house were any indication Oliver Queen had not cooked in his immaculate kitchen in a long time.

Jogging to the grocery store, she planned everything- she would be pushy, he would be annoyed but he would go with it. They would do lunch and flirt and she could ease into the role of Felicity, her true identity, rather than the one the league gave her as a child.

Her father was old money that was mainly thefts and debts. Giving his only child to the League of Shadows to become one of the legendary Shadowhunters was his only option besides death.

The sad thing is that she never forgot a face and she definitely remembered stealing something from the infamous Indiana Queen. She was unlike the other league members who relied too much on brutality to find their targets. She vacationed in Bali for two weeks and planned a ten minute heist in an airport.

She didn’t have time to waste three months tailing her mark.

Which made this even more difficult. Because the con could take years at this pace.

**

Felicity sits on his porch and drinks his coffee that he gets flown in from Columbia. She dumps more sugar than should be legal into his very expensive coffee and reads Buzzfeed from her tablet, because apparently hacking his router was easier than it seemed.

The sun hits her blonde hair and she looks up at him watching her. “Your house is huge.”

“My mother bought it for my sister as a graduation gift- but she moved to Coast City the second she got her diploma.” Oliver explained, dragging his pile of essays into the three season porch they never used even when his father was alive.

He can’t remember the last time a woman voluntarily stayed the day, let alone helped herself to coffee and breakfast.

She did make enough for two, the eggs perfectly poached and the bread barely toasted. Also there was bacon that he knew was turkey, but he had none of those ingredients in his fridge yesterday.

“It’s Saturday. The day of relaxation!” She stretched her arms above her head and snuggled deeper into the couch. Her toes ended up in his lap and she didn’t seem to care when he put the pile of papers on top.

“Sunday is the day of relaxation.” Oliver corrected her, “In America.” He doubted she wanted to hear about other cultures at this particular point in the conversation. She also probably knew that information.

“Not if you’re Jewish.”

“Are you Jewish?” He countered, taking his red pen to the student’s paper correcting the word “skellie” to skeleton.  Just because he was lenient didn’t mean he accepted laziness.

“Only on my mother’s side. I like to pick and choose things.” Felicity furiously scrolled through some pages before settling on something to read, “Like Saturday is the day of reading. Years of graduate school have prepared me to be very last minute at all things academic. All of my quizzes are graded online anyway.”

Oliver supposed he could do that as well, but sometimes people needed more space to explain their answers. He usually let the top performing students shadow him for the summer and when he got to Africa maybe some of them would actually show their true potential.

Sometimes people had to show you what they were capable of in not so many words.

Turning his focus back to his papers, he hadn’t realized he’d been stroking Felicity’s foot- or that she had commandeered half the pile.

“Do kids in your classes really think that spellcheck is new thing? This one looks like it was typed on a cellphone. Autocorrect, man’s best and worst achievement. There are emoticons! D+. ”

She didn’t even read the paper.

“Isn’t it our job as academics to accept cultural norms for what they are?”

“Isn’t writing essays and planning human thoughts a cultural norm?” Felicity looked up at him, over the rims of her glasses and the only thing Oliver could think was: _Damn, I’m gone._

**

Oliver drinks his coffee black.

Turkish-style, Colombian roast. Mainly because he did not have a coffee grinder or a coffee pot beside the beat up little copper thing he uses.

She, after their third date, decided to buy him a French press, which he did not know how to use, and showed him the wonders of coconut water in the coffee process. She brings the cups to his couch, their normal hangout spot and sets it down expectantly.

He takes a sip and frowns before continuing with whatever he was reading.

“Oops.” She switches the cups out, and he takes another sip and nods.

Normally being ignored would be a huge detriment to their relationship. But she quickly decided nothing about their relationship was normal. She did not lounge in her underwear with marks, let alone kiss them or leave hickeys in conspicuous places, as evidenced by the red mark on Oliver’s right knee.

“Oliver, what have I told you about leaving the front door open?!”

His face betrays his eyes which are currently bugged out in panic. His mother, or the woman she assumes is his mother walks out onto the porch and looks around, “What are you doing out here? We never sit out here”-

Felicity counts to three before Mrs. Queen notices her, sitting on the couch in her underwear. Coffee and scones were on the wicker coffee table and Oliver had a death grip on his coffee mug and her knee. If she were to move at all, his mother would see the pink camouflage thong she was wearing and her lack of bra underneath Oliver’s shirt she had re-stolen.

“Oh. I didn’t realize you had company.”

Standing up quickly, she tugged her (Oliver’s) shirt down and shook the woman’s hand. “Felicity Smoak. I’m going to go change and- help yourself to some scones. I baked them this morning.”

Felicity knew she could just run her head into the window and probably break her neck if she tried. She did not meet the mark’s parents. She did not lounge in her underwear or spend the night or make scones from scratch-

Running back towards Oliver’s bedroom, she pulled her skirt out of the dryer and worked her five minute magic- hair, makeup and bra properly on, Oliver’s shirt tucked into her skirt.

“I left the door open on purpose-You could have called. Mom.” Oliver was arguing with his mother.

She walks back in and Moira’s jaw drops. She cleaned up nicely, thank you very much.  “Moira, it’s nice to meet you, Oliver speaks fondly of you and his sister Thea.”

Moira, to her credit is eating a scone, daintily dabbing at her mouth with a napkin. “What a coincidence. My son has never mentioned you.”

Ouch. Bitch.

_“Yo, Dr. Queen! Dr. Smoak? Are you home?”_

How normal people were not observant always puzzled her. One of their grad students, Cisco, lets himself into Oliver’s house and plops down on the couch grabbing a scone and slathering honey on it before noticing Mrs. Queen.

“She has serious Momface.” Cisco mumbled, awkwardly sliding off the couch and taking another scone for the road. Moira Queen might be broken because she stares at the college kid leaving the house and he signals to another student to turn around on the back lawn.

“Well now that my Wednesday is ruined, do you want to go to early lunch?” Oliver smiled grabbing her hand. “He took _my_ scones.” Oliver Queen was pouting. It was cute.

“Jeez, I’ll bake you some more tomorrow. I’ll have to stop at Whole Foods and get more chocolate chips. Your mother might be frozen in time. Mrs. Queen would you like to go to lunch with us?”

Felicity is honestly surprised when she says yes.

They eat at a 5-star, Michelin restaurant that she didn’t even know was in Starling.

Walking out of the restaurant, another one of Oliver’s students stops them, “Please tell me I didn’t miss the study group this morning. We all stopped by your house but Cisco said you weren’t there? But you guys are _always_ there.”

“Caitlin, text everyone to meet us there in thirty minutes. We’ll have a few hours before lecture.” Felicity finds herself saying. “It was nice meeting your Mrs. Queen.”

Thankfully they drove separately, Moira going back to her lair to kick innocent puppies.

Upon entering Oliver’s house, she immediately began making a fresh batch of scones, only to have Oliver seriously distract her by pinning her against the island. “Why did you tell them thirty minutes?” she asked finally.

“What other activities take that long?” He countered, hoisting her up and pulling her skirt down.

By the time the scones are done, so is she with two minutes to spare for her freakishly punctual students.

**

Oliver handed all of the papers back to his students, sitting on top of the desk at the bottom of the lecture hall. “If anyone has any questions, come see me after class. Your homework for Thursday is to read chapters 15-17 and we’ll be playing extra credit bingo.”

The classroom emptied out, leaving one familiar looking blonde sitting dead center in the sea of seats.

“I have a question Dr. Queen. I’m not sure my grade is what I want it to be. Is there anything I could do to convince you to take another look at my midterm?”

Felicity slides the arm rest back into place before crossing her legs in front of her, the skirt hiking dangerously up her thighs. Oliver jumped the first few rows of seats before taking the piece of paper in front of her.

“I have office hours from 3-7.” Oliver swallowed thickly, glancing down at the piece of paper while she sauntered out of the room, her heels clicking down the hallway.

‘I’m not wearing panties’ was scrawled on the piece of paper in her handwriting and if he was a weaker man he would screw his office hours and spend them on his knees in Felicity’s- but there were only a few weeks left before finals and this is when students started showing up for help.

Jogging across the Michaels building, he made it to his office in record time, where his Peanut Gallery was already waiting outside of his office.

“We want in. Wherever you’re going. Otherwise we need to go home over break.” Cisco informed him. Apparently going home from break was something that was unspeakable.

The four of them whip out their passports and toss them on the ground in a pile.  Very dramatic.

“I’m climbing Kilimanjaro. Hit the gym. You all climb or you don’t work.” Fishing the cash out of his wallet, he threw it down on top of their passports. “Get some gear, break it in. After finals we do a test run and if that goes okay, we’ll be going to Africa for a week before fall semester starts.”

“That’s great, but we want in on the little business you’re forming. Treasure hunting? We know you’ve put feelers out on all the major museums on five continents.” Ronnie speaks up for the first time, well, ever and then motions to the others to add their resumes to the pile.

He wasn’t convinced, which was apparently Caitlin’s cue.

“We’ll work cheaper and better because you’ll have trained us. Cisco and I will run point from the lab, you, Roy and Ronnie out in the field and maybe your government hander you talk about all the time will help. I know Dr. Allen needs a side project. And Dr. Smoak practically lives at your house-”

Oliver seriously underestimated his four overeager grad students. “Anything else to add to the pot?”

Roy added a rental agreement, “We have studio space lined up and Ronnie’s working on the incorporation papers. We just need you to sign off on it.”

**

“I’m going to Africa next week.”

Mentally panicking, Felicity tried to remember if he had made contact with his handler in the past few months of their “relationship”. He didn’t mention any old friends or acquaintances in town or anything strange at work- why would he be going to Africa?

She was getting too soft, too comfortable.

Because her first instinct wasn’t about the mission it was about their _relationship_. And he was so casual about the whole thing, eating his fucking kale salad like a stupid boy and even though she practically lived in that crappy house he needed to fix up and she upgraded the security on his router because honestly a ten year old with an old iPhone could crack it-

She curbs her frantic thoughts and instead comes off as unaffected, “What for?”

“Climbing Kilimanjaro. Again. It’s a thing- I go and climb and take some interns and then we dig in the rubble for a bit-”

Felicity finishes her sandwich, patting her lips with the napkin before gently setting it to the side. She was going to draw this out and make him suffer because he was horrible! This job was not worth her freedom. He was arrogant and always thought he was right and was unyielding and wouldn’t sing along to the radio with her, and ate healthy things all the time.

Those were her legitimate complaints she had about Oliver. The things she thought about however, were his dimples when he smiled and how his eyes darkened when things were heading into the bedroom. He always had to hold her hand everywhere and his hair was a mess and he made her laugh and cry, and the sex was consistently B+ or better and he was smart, so smart-

“-I’d like it if you’d come with.”

Semester break. They had two weeks before fall semester started. She should say no.

“Sure. I’m not doing anything.”

He smiles and all she can think is: _Shit, I’m screwed._

**

 “Summer fling? It’s been six months. The girl has met your mother, you work together and you climbed Kilimanjaro together. Felicity is your girlfriend. If her panties end up in your laundry, you’re dating.” Tommy clinked his glass against his and downed the rest of his drink.

“Have Laurel’s panties ended up in your laundry?” Oliver asks, amused. He hated being in Tommy’s club but he had been- distant as of late.  And maybe Felicity was his girlfriend.  That wasn’t too horrible. She had her academics, her students. He had- occasionally looking for treasure in the Bermuda Triangle. Both lives were fulfilling in different ways.

“She puts them in a bag, like I’m the maid. But they are washed in my machine, which I think is close enough.” Tommy smiles, “I told you in high school I was gonna marry that girl from underneath you.”

Oliver laugh sounds foreign to him, and that should be weird, but he spends his day at school, his nights on Felicity’s couch watching television shows he is only vaguely interested in. He doesn’t laugh at the shows but he smiles and is so content- it’s a weight off his shoulders, this new revelation.

Felicity comes back from the bathroom with Laurel, tucking herself against his side. “Let’s dance!”

“Oh, Ollie doesn’t dance.” Laurel is about to launch into a story about senior prom, where he stood on the sidelines and got drunk with Tommy, but Felicity is dragging him out on the dance floor while she slithers against him before taking a step back twirling her arms in the air. Spinning in circles, she grabbed for his arms and he held on for dear life.

Four songs. They dance for four songs and then the DJ’s taking a break and he’s sweaty from the bodies on the dance floor and Felicity is drunk and flushed and looks damn sexy dancing for him and it hits him- he’s in love. With a tiny blonde from Vegas who thought Archeology was pointless and was allergic to nuts and wanted a cat even though her landlord didn’t allow pets.

He drives them back to his place and makes sure she’s hydrated before crawling under the covers. She has an 8AM class, which he makes sure she is properly caffeinated for and walks her to class.

“I am never drinking again.” She mumbled, kissing his cheek before heading into the lecture hall. He stops her, reaching into his pocket with shaky hands. The last time he had shaky hands was in front of that booby-trapped tomb but this was too important to screw up.

“Marry me.”

The linoleum floor is sticky and there are 100 students waiting for her lecture on famous forgeries, but he gets on one knee, his grandmother’s engagement ring in his hand, waiting for her response. She tears up and nods her head ‘yes’ before pulling him up into a kiss.

The class erupts in applause as he puts the ring on her finger.

**

Oliver has an admirer.

Well several admirers if she was being honest, but one of the senior girls always makes an excuse to come to her office hours, which were right about the time Oliver came in so they could go to lunch. Iris was a journalism student and there was no way she needed advice for a piece of Art History.

“You know we got engaged, right?” Felicity asks finally, “You are a good student Iris and as much as I enjoy our semi-awkward talks about _The Blacklist_ you really shouldn’t be trying to put the digs into my future husband.”

Iris’ eyes widen and she starts to say something before the door opens, revealing her fiancé, and his friend from Forensics, Dr.  Allen. Come to think of it, the every other Tuesday his students were in the crime lab and he usually came to lunch with Oliver-

Barry smiled, “Oh. Hey, Iris.”

“Dr. Queen. Dr. Allen. I was just leaving-”

“No. Don’t be silly. Come to lunch with us.” Oliver insisted, “We always let Felicity choose and she always chooses Big Belly Burger. How’s your senior project coming? Do you need me to talk to my mother about Internships?”

Oliver led her out the door and while she really felt embarrassed about her implication earlier, she felt even worse for her new friend Barry. Slapping him upside the head she pointed a finger at his face.

“She is a student. An _Undergrad_ student. And her father is a Detective in Central City.”

The idiot was still smiling so Felicity grabbed him by the ear. “You are ten years older than her and I don’t care if she flirts with you or you flirt back. If this gets out it will ruin her and if you care about her even a little, you can wait four weeks until she’s graduated.”

They go to lunch and eat salads (ick) at the salad bar near campus and while Oliver and Barry talk about something or other he’s planning, she spies the rest of his admirers looking over at them from a different table. Frowning, Felicity grabs her salad and joins them.

“So whatchya doing. I know none of you want to sleep with my fiancé. And didn’t all of you graduate? Stalking is illegal in all fifty states.”

Caitlin, the one she likes, blabs about their new business venture and how Oliver wasn’t particularly forthcoming about his old cases or new leads or anything. He (since the trip to Africa) had been well, ignoring them. In favor of his normal, domestic life.

“He’s freaking Indiana Queen! He can’t retire until he’s old. Or found the holy grail-”

They were fishing for hints.  Felicity rose an eyebrow and Roy recanted his previous statement, “-The Ark of the- The DaBeers diamond?”

Felicity wasn’t sure about that one. In her old life, she would have wanted a line on that particular piece of treasure. Her brain coming to an abrupt halt, Felicity gripped her Diet Coke and tried to remember how to breathe. If she was thinking in terms of _her old life_ then maybe her new life was-

“Oh my god he proposed?” Cisco stuttered, “Congratulations!”

Oliver was smiling and she was smiling and maybe things would work out okay. She felt his hand on her shoulder while he made his apologies for not stopping by their office today.

“I’ll be there tomorrow. I have a meeting scheduled that should take most of the morning.”

He didn’t have a meeting. She regularly checked his phone.

Oliver picked her up out of the chair and swung her over one shoulder. “Oliver Jonas Queen put me down!”

“We have a meeting at the courthouse and then I don’t plan on leaving bed until they start harassing me in the morning.”

It probably wasn’t the world’s shortest engagement, but to Felicity it was the best one.

**

They get married at the court house that afternoon and before he realizes it, Felicity Queen is part of his life permanently. They go on their honeymoon- he’d been asked to speak in Belgium about something and they get stopped at the airport on the way back.

“Drs. Queen. We need your help.”

Such an occasion was not unusual for him, people often asked for his help in the strangest places. Being ushered into a back room, Felicity seemed nervous.

“It’s okay, I do this all the time.” Oliver kissed her temple, “The federal government only seems to call when I’m already at the airport.”

They had three weeks until the semester started, and he’s sure she already made the syllabi. There would be plenty of time to do whatever they wanted and get back just in enough time for him to teach Intro to Archeology in the spring.

His “handler” John Diggle, flopped a file in front of him. “We got them.”

“No.” Oliver couldn’t hold down his excitement.

“Got who?” Felicity, his poor little Art Nerd was jetlagged and probably still tired, from their honeymoon activities.

“The so-called, _League of Shadows_. One of their agents went dark and works for us now. There’s a rumor of a whisper of a rumor of a whisper that an old tomb in the middle of the jungle where a rival group has stashed a priceless Monet. The intel is good, the chopper is ready and all we need is a pair of archeologists willing to dig through miles of tunnels and buried priceless treasures. And maybe catch a few bad guys along the way.”

“What to do you say, Wife? Want to do a little treasure hunting?”

“Why not- I’ve literally been waiting my whole life to see a lost Monet in person!” Felicity smiled grabbing his hand. They would prep for a week and then spend two in the middle of the desert.

Between packing her belongings to his house, he thought married life suited him. It wasn’t as difficult as he talked himself into and if they could get her moved into his house in one day they might get a day off before leaving.

“So what exactly do you know about this League?”

Oliver animatedly talked about his run-in with the League and how they trained master thieves like out of the movies. Snatched children and trained them and they were responsible for some of the biggest private thefts of all time.

He had been looking for a medallion in the Andes, the league member literally picking it out of his pocket while he was in the airport on the way home.

“Whoever stole the medallion from me- they were named Al Matab. Their accomplice called them that anyway. It would be a lot easier to track them down if I got an actual name.”

Felicity suddenly worried, put her chin on his shoulder, “I want you to promise me that you’ll be safe. They could have stabby-stabbed you in the airport and then we never would have met.”

Oliver kissed the tip of her nose, “Well you’ll always be around to watch my back.”

“I’m being serious! They are called the LEAGUE of SHADOWS. Not the _League of Hugs and Kisses_!”

Oliver decided that his wife was done unpacking and packing and that maybe she needed some hugs and kisses. Picking her up around the knees, he walked her up the stairs towards the bedroom.

“As long as you and I are together, we can do anything.” That was as close to a promise as he could make. She was worrying about nothing, and he would definitely try his best to take her mind off things until they left in a few days.

**

It had been a year.

One year.

No calls from the League, no rumors, no one tailing her on the way to school. She had fallen into the role of Felicity Queen, loving wife. Oliver would want children soon and it had been so long since she’d even thought about the mission that she hoped it would never come up.

The League was too patient for its own good.

Not only did the feds know about the League, they finally found the Treasure Trove and knew about her Monet. Things she used to care about: _Freedom. Money. Art_ had faded into the background and now all she cared about was Oliver surviving the trip.

She was a married woman now, Felicity Queen was a teacher and moved into to her husband’s house that he liked to remodel on weekends shirtless and there was a pool and a new car and they went to Fiji for fun on the weekends and she loved him.

She loved him.

So maybe she was packing her bags to go to the middle of the jungle. Dreaming about it for months since their wedding, he would find out her secret and he would be gone forever.

She was thief, she cared about material things but Oliver was more than her husband. He was her new life, her happy ending. And she would have to throw it all away because she didn’t know what she would do if they hurt him-

Choking back the sob she didn’t realize she was holding she prayed to whoever would listen that she didn’t end up a widow.

**

“That’s what you’re wearing?”

Oliver looked down to his standard expedition gear- fitted, rough khakis, short sleeve white shirt- both with plenty of pockets and his best steel-toed boots. He had his pack on his back and on his belt was his whip and machete. And a flashlight. Plus his hat. Besides his water pack on his backpack, he thought he packed well enough.

“Okay, _Tomb Raider_ , what are you wearing shorts for?”

“It’s 90 degrees!” Felicity argued, looking down at her ensemble. Besides wearing the most ridiculous wool knee highs, she had a knife strapped to her thigh. “We will be down there for hours.”

Oliver knew his wife was not an archeologist, but the exposed skin was definitely going to be a problem when they were knee-deep in rubble. Hoisting both shovels across his shoulders, he followed Felicity to where she approximated the storage room to be.

Following her through the catacombs was- nice. Normally he was alone in the dark wondering if a snake was going to pop out of nowhere and attack him- but he definitely appreciated the view of Felicity’s backside as she walked.

Her tablet had shaved at least five hours off their search time and when she stopped abruptly in front of him, “This should be it.”

Oliver looked around at the stunning amount of nothingness and seriously doubted her technological prowess.

“It should be right here!” Felicity stomped her foot down and Oliver watched his greatest nightmare come true- the ground swallowed Felicity up, reaching for his whip and coming up with nothing. Running to the edge of the pit, she must have fallen fallen two stories-

“FELICITY!”

“I’m good. I think.” Felicity’s voice was weak, “I also found the treasure room. The floor above me.”

Oliver peered down into the rubble where Felicity had grabbed an old helmet on her way down to protect her head. Maybe he should have let her pack the drone she wanted to bring.

Scanning the area around him, he knew the rope he packed wasn’t long enough to get to the next floor but he had to try. Tying one end to the column, he took a running leap and epically missed-

But on his way down he did see the guys with guns that definitely weren’t part of Dig’s team. Cutting the rope, he landed hard on his left foot but he was face to face with the lost Monet.

“Give us the painting and you’ll live.”

The dark haired woman in front of him definitely wasn’t his wife. That wasn’t what he found strange, but the way she said _us_.

Pushing past the pain, he pushed the woman off her feet, and she fell into the chasm below him, next to Felicity.

Rolling up the painting, it couldn’t be true. He had checked Felicity’s credentials after they started dating. She had the knowledge of all of the subjects she claimed and when she finally talked him into looking at his painting under her machines she knew what she was doing-

Which would be the perfect cover for a master thief.

He couldn’t breathe and to make matters worse the floor underneath him wasn’t exactly steady. Taking a step forward, the ground started to shake and then he was falling-

**

Oliver wasn’t breathing. Nyssa was dead.

There would be more League members coming to loot the remains and she needed to get the two of them out of there. Grabbing the gun off Nyssa’s holder she said a quick prayer before resuming CPR.  Oliver woke up with a start before clutching his foot.

There had to be another way out of here and if her tablet wasn’t in a million pieces or he’d let her bring the stupid drone-

“How could you?” Oliver accuses, pushing her hands away and sitting up, “We got married. I wanted you to have my children. I was going to retire for you! Now we’re going to die here and I didn’t bring batteries for the SAT phone.”

She had never seen him angry but he was angry enough to stand up and start walking in the opposite direction.

“There will be more coming and I’ve only got ten bullets.” Felicity growled, “We don’t have time to argue right now. All you need to know is that both of us are walking out of here, with as many of them not as possible.”

Felicity dug into her fanny pack and produced batteries for the phone. “If I give you these, I want your word that you let me walk out of here before the League kills me.”

He doesn’t take the batteries, but he does motion towards the dark hallway to her right.

His foot is probably broken and wants to be Felicity Queen loving wife. She wants to take care of him and go shopping with Thea next weekend and get out of the tomb.

She knew she couldn’t get away with any of that without him surviving.

**

“You know I loved you.” Felicity was crying and as much as the lies and the deceit had hurt him, they had something. If she wasn’t caught red-handed, stealing the Monet as they were about to turn it over to the authorities. He didn’t know why or how this happened but Felicity, his Felicity, was one of the art thieves they were chasing. She had manipulated him, lied to him and he didn’t care.

“I know. And I loved you.”

Felicity held her hands out, she had been the one to pack the zipties. The irony was not lost on him.

“I can’t.” Oliver tried to rub his eyes but he only succeeded in getting more dirt in them. Logistically, they’d been wandering the catacombs for hours and they were knee deep in dead bodies and dirt. Even if he did ziptie her he’d have to get her and the painting back through five miles of crumbled old building and up the rope ladder.

And if the blood squishing around in his sock were any indication, his blisters would have blisters. And his ankle would be broken- he was making excuses in his head when his heart had already come up with the answer.

“I was going to tell you. So many times but then my employer moved up the timeline. And then I was in love with you. I’m sorry I lied to you.”

Crushing his lips against hers he tucked the painting into her bag.

“You need to punch me, really, really hard.” He wanted to tell her to stay. That they would take on the League of Shadows and they could have a normal, not-boring life together. They could travel the world on a boat or take up a residency at the Egyptian Museum- they could be the same, the way they had been for the past year. But the League did not have deserters- they had bloody corpses left in alleyways.

Felicity hesitated, “If you can find it in your heart to forgive me for lying, I’ll be in Argentina. There’s some Nazi loot that needs to go back to its rightful place. This buys my freedom.”

She punches him, with hard right between the eyes and as the world starts spinning he’s already making up excuses for not going. She pulls the batteries out of her belt pouch, calling for help. “Please! Anyone! He’s losing blood.”

She steps on the phone with her boot and runs off, the way they came in.

He closes his eyes- just for a second, and then the medivac is lifting him out of the tomb. A year ago he was bored out of his mind, looking for an adventure. He may not have gotten it right away, but it came and went and he just felt- empty.

“Oliver! You did it!” Diggle was congratulating him, holding up the painting.

“What?” He choked, he must be dehydrated and seeing things. There was no way that Al-Matab, world-renowned Art Thief for the League of Shadows would leave behind her prize. Especially since he tucked it into her pack before he blacked out.

“Oliver Queen only backs down in front of snakes.” Felicity smiled, putting a reassuring hand on his knee, “Or not bringing the proper socks. You have three broken toes- one’s gonna need surgery.”

The helicopter flies away from the tomb and Oliver thinks maybe they’ll be alright.

(At least until the League caught up with them, but that was another adventure for another time)

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Indiana Jones or Arrow and make no profit from this work of fiction.


End file.
